Borrowed Time
by talfe'anhar
Summary: Khan has his revenge after all. Takes place 36 years after the events of STID. Tear-jerker. I own nothing.
1. Chapter 1

Jim was coughing. Spock could hear him from the kitchen where he was making tea. The water was about to boil, and Spock wondered if he should turn off the burner and go check on his soul mate. Jim was at the other end of the house in the study. Spock had gotten him settled there so he could enjoy the sunlight coming in the window.

"I'll check on him, Dad," a voice called out. It was his daughter, Kianda.

"Thank you, Kianda. I will be there in a moment." Spock could hear his daughter speaking to Jim, but couldn't make out what they were saying. The water came to a boil. He poured it into the teapot to steep, then left the kitchen and went to the study.

Jim was bent over and Kianda was patting him on his back. It was a practice known as chest percussion, and was useful in helping Jim to purge the excess mucous from his lungs. Spock could hear the rattle in his soul mate's chest as he coughed, fighting to get the stuff up so he could expel it.

Kianda looked up at her father. "He needs an oxygen shot. His lips are turning blue." Spock left the room briefly and came back with a hypospray. He put it against Jim's neck and triggered it. He knew Jim hated getting these shots in the neck, and normally he'd have deposited the dose into his arm, but there wasn't time. Jim wasn't getting enough oxygen from breathing. The injection would work quickly, boosting his soul mate's blood oxygen level. Once he'd administered the shot, he bent and spoke close to Jim's ear.

"I am sorry, Jim, but there was not time to put the dose into your arm." He kissed Jim on the cheek and straightened. Kianda was still patting Jim's back.

"Kianda, I will take over. I left tea steeping in the kitchen. If you will pour it and bring it to us I will be grateful."

"Of course."

"Thank you." He sat down on the chair she had vacated and started slapping Jim's back, quite a bit harder than she had. It had the desired effect. Jim's coughing became productive. He was able to clear his lungs, spitting the mucous and phlegm into a container so that Spock could check it for blood. He sat back in his overstuffed recliner and Spock handed him a box of tissues. Jim wiped his mouth and the tears the fit had brought to his eyes. Spock was relieved to see that his lips were no longer blue. The episode had tired him out; he sat with his eyes closed, breathing as best he could. Finally, he spoke, his voice thin and raspy.

"Thanks, Spock. That was a bad one. Kianda needs to stop being afraid to hit me too hard. It works better if you hit harder."

"I will speak to her..."

"I don't mean to complain. I'm grateful for her help. I think she's afraid she's gonna hurt me. Just let her know she can really pound on my back and it'll work better."

"What will work better?" Kianda had returned with the tea. She handed a mug to her father, and one to Jim. He took it, and offered her a weak smile.

"I was just telling Spock that you can hit me a lot harder than you do. You won't hurt me. It works better if you can smack my back pretty hard."

"The next time you employ chest percussion, I will show you how hard I hit him."

"I appreciate your help, Kianda."

"I know you do, uncle. I'm happy to help you in any way I can." She bent and kissed his cheek, then left the two men alone.

Spock looked at the thick fluid Jim had coughed up. He was relieved to see that there was no blood. If there had been, he would have had to contact Bones and have him come out to check on their friend. He took the container and emptied its contents, rinsed and dried it so that it would be ready for Jim's next fit of coughing. He hoped it wouldn't be too soon. The coughing, and more distressing, the trouble breathing, were happening more and more often. Spock's logical mind knew the progression of Jim's illness was accelerating. He also knew that there was no way to stop it. No cure. After 33 years of good health, Jim had begun to weaken and have lung problems. After much research by Dr. McCoy and himself, they had ascertained that the healing and restorative affects of the serum made from Khan's blood had started to wear off. They had considered a lung transplant, but had determined that Jim's body would reject the organ. There was nothing to do now but try to make the man as comfortable as possible, and give him what quality of life they could.

There was plenty of help nearby. When Jim had become ill, everyone had come together to decide what would be the best course of action. They now lived on a large piece of land on which they had built houses for each of the families. Spock, Uhura, Jim and Ree shared a large house, and Kianda lived in another with her husband and their three children. Spock and Uhura's other daughter, Yemaya, had followed in her mother's footsteps and become a communications officer. Jim and Ree's son George, along with his wife, twins sons and daughter, lived onboard the Enterprise where he had taken over as captain. They had a house on the property, but George was much like his father in that he felt most at home on the Enterprise. The twins had been born on the ship.

Bones lived on the property too, in a small cottage close to the main house. It took him until he was in his late forties but he was remarried to a woman who was also a doctor with a private practice. Bones had retired from Starfleet and was now Jim's personal physician, a job which Starfleet paid him to do. Not that he wouldn't have done it for free. He was 68 years old. Spock was 65, and Jim was 62. Spock had retired from Starfleet three years ago when Jim had become ill. He was determined to spend as much time with his soul mate as he could in what time they had left. He did his best not to think about losing Jim. It caused him anxiety that bordered on panic. He simply could not face the thought of having to go on without his soul mate, the other half of himself, the person he loved more than any other. The entire family knew how difficult it had been for both Spock and Jim.

When the problems first started, Jim tried to brush it off, saying that he just needed more exercise, needed to eat better, wasn't getting enough sleep, etc. But deep inside him he knew, as Spock had known, that something was seriously amiss with his health. When Jim collapsed, gasping for breath while shooting hoops with Spock, the research began. The Vulcan and the doctor were unable to find a cause for Jim's lung problems. It wasn't cancer, or emphysema, or asthma, or even any extraterrestrial malady. When they finally figured out that Jim's lung tissue was essentially disintegrating, they were able to pinpoint the cause. Khan had his revenge after all, albeit while he was in cryogenic stasis and 33 years after the battle between the Enterprise and the Vengeance, the death of Christopher Pike and the sacrifice Jim made to save his ship and crew, the act that necessitated needing Khan's blood in the first place. Jim had been living on borrowed time, and now time was up.

In the silence that followed Jim's coughing fit, Spock became aware of the hum of the oxygen concentrator. He looked at Jim and noticed he wasn't wearing the delivery tube. He'd taken it off when the coughing became severe. He always said it got in his way. He hated wearing it, but it was necessary to supplement his oxygen intake. Spock looked around and saw it on the floor beside Jim's recliner. He picked it up and went to put it back in place.

"I was hoping you wouldn't notice I wasn't wearing that damn thing," Jim said wearily.

"I know how much you dislike having to use it, but it is the only way to get enough oxygen into your blood. Your lips are turning blue again." With gentle, skilled fingers, Spock put the tube back in place, securing it behind his soul mate's ears and fitting the clip in his nostrils. He checked to make sure the tube was properly connected to the concentrator and checked the gauge to make sure it was delivering the proper amount of oxygen. Satisfied that all was as it should be, he turned the chair so he could sit facing Jim.

"It's getting worse, Spock. I'm starting to get scared. I don't have much time. I know it, and so do you."

"Doctor McCoy will give you a checkup on Friday. He will give us his assessment of your condition."

"We don't need Bones to tell us I'm dying, Spock. The question is, how much time do I have left?"

Spock fought the surge of fear he felt. It would not help Jim to be reminded of how terrified he was of losing him. He took a deep breath and let it out, trying to settle himself. "However much time you have, we will make the best of it, will we not?"

"Yes, we will. Where are the wives?"

"They went to the market. It is time for a grocery run. They took the grand children with them."

"Ah. That's why the house is so quiet. How long have they been gone?"

"They left just before you woke up from your nap."

"Then they'll be gone for a while. Wanna spend some soul mate time?"

"Are you certain you are feeling up to it?"

"Yes. I wanna go where I'm still all in one piece. Please."

Spock felt tears sting his eyes. He disconnected Jim's oxygen tube from the concentrator and turned it off. He would connect it to the one in the bedroom they shared. Their wives had realized, as they had, that they needed to be together as much as possible. Jim would sleep with Ree two, sometimes three nights per week. Spock would spend those same nights with Nyota. The women had time with their husbands, and Jim never slept alone.

He handed the tube to Jim. Slowly they made their way to their bedroom. Spock closed the door and pushed a button which turned on a light outside the door. It told the other inhabitants of the house that the soul mates were on the ethereal plane. They knew not to disturb them. Spock helped Jim onto the bed. It was the kind that could be adjusted so that Jim could sleep sitting up if he was having a hard time breathing. He'd become too weak for them to sit facing each other as they did in the past. Their new configuration was Jim lying supported by the mattress into a half-sitting position, with Spock on his side snuggled against him. Spock handled the mind meld, taking Jim with him onto the ethereal plane.

_xxxxx_

Jim didn't get startled anymore. He'd done this with Spock so many times, the shock of the transition had finally worn off. He did feel a sense of motion as their ethereal bodies went to what, for them, was home. The ethereal plane was always a nice place to be, but lately, for Jim, it had become a refuge, an escape from the reality of his failing health. Here he was still whole, still healthy and strong. His ethereal body was not ravaged by the illness the way his physical one was. He could breathe, he could run, he could dance. The first time he'd taken off running across the rolling, featureless plane, he'd pretty much freaked out his soul mate. But then they discovered that Spock could run and play _with_ Jim, not just observe him. Now they had one of these play sessions every time they did a meld/bond/merge.

Jim opened his eyes and saw Spock facing him. They looked as they had years ago, not long after they'd soul bonded. Gone were the wrinkles, the pains of old age... the illness. The Vulcan looked at him, a small smile on his lips. Spock still only rarely smiled big enough to show teeth, but the 'almost smile' had become an actual one over the years. He even laughed occasionally, which made Jim insanely happy. It was another thing they shared that they hadn't before.

Jim smiled at Spock. "Let's run!" He took off at a sprint, and Spock followed. He caught up with him and they ran side-by-side across the featureless landscape. They slowed to a walk and then started playfully shoving each other until Jim knocked Spock down and they ended up wrestling on ground that felt soft and yielding under them. Jim pinned Spock under him and threw mock punches at him, laughing all the while. Spock laughed too, and it made Jim laugh even louder. He lifted his weight from Spock and pulled the Vulcan to his feet.

"What are we doing? Let's go merge!"

_xxxxx_

Jim grabbed Spock and swept them across the landscape to their sanctuary. They didn't have separate doors anymore. And the inside had changed a lot since they'd first been there. Their rooms were blended together now and the merging chamber was a small room off the combined rooms. They did their walkthrough of the sanctuary and then went to the chamber. There had been a time when Spock was afraid to merge with his soul mate, worried that it would harm Jim's physical body, but it didn't. In fact, it had a restorative effect. Jim felt better when they returned to the physical plane after a trip to the ethereal.

Their meld/bond/merge sessions were precious to both of them. Jim reveled in the freedom, albeit temporary, from the ravages of his illness. Spock felt a great joy in being with his soul mate here, where they could be as they once were. He saw the sparkle in Jim's clear blue eyes, the boyish smile, the lean, well-muscled body, the energy, the strength. The sweetness of these times filled Spock's heart to overflowing, made him smile, even laugh, in spite of the fact that he was a logical Vulcan. Back on the physical plane, in these last few weeks of Jim's life, he loved him more than ever, always remembering the man he was before he became ill. Here, he could see it, feel it, celebrate it.

He caught Jim in a tight embrace. Jim responded, hugging Spock tightly as well. They began to merge, to reach out to each other. The sensations were unlike any they experienced in their physical bodies. What they felt here was stronger, deeper, more profound, more fulfilling. It was like unbelievably good sex, only it wasn't sexual at all. It was spiritual. All the pleasure and subsequent release was centered in their hearts, their souls, not in their genitals. They touched, caressed, teased, but they did these things with their ethereal bodies. When they moved into each other, it brought pleasure far beyond any sexual union. The merge culminated in a climax so intense that it made an orgasm feel like a sneeze. They didn't remember it once they went back to the physical plane. It would have been far too distracting. It would have made them want to spend all their time merging. Back in the physical realm they remembered only an echo of the actual merging, and a pleasant feeling of well-being.

The soul mates had learned to take their time, and make the merge last as long as possible. Once they climaxed, they had only a short time before they had to return to the physical. T' Pela had told them it was a safety feature to keep them from getting too caught up in being in the ethereal. Although it was a part of their lives, it wasn't where they were supposed to spend a lot of time. When they couldn't hold back any longer and the climax finally came, they were completely caught up in it, and everything else was swept aside in the overwhelming pleasure and release it gave them. They held tight to each other as wave after wave swept through them, their ethereal bodies shuddering in ecstasy. Finally the waves subsided and still they held each other, basking in deep, abiding love.

Spock felt Jim shaking. He was alarmed until he realized that his soul mate was crying. It happened occasionally; Jim would simply be overwhelmed by the experience. Spock kissed him on the side of his neck, something he did in moments of strong emotion in either of them. He stroked Jim's back and shoulders, projecting, with his mind, his unconditional love for this man with whom he was bonded for eternity.

"I love you too, my soul mate," Jim said. "God, I love you so much."

Spock could feel, through the resonating harmony of their bonded souls, that the time to go back to the physical realm was approaching. Suddenly Jim clutched him tightly, a sob escaping from deep inside him.

"I don't wanna go back, Spock. I don't wanna go back!"

"I know you do not, but we must. I too wish that we could remain here. We cannot. We must go back. If you wish, I will sleep with you tonight. It is all that I can offer, and it may not be enough, but it will be my honor to hold you through the night as you sleep. Will that make the transition easier to bear?"

Spock felt Jim sob again. He found himself imploring whatever deity might be out there, _please, has he not suffered enough? If you cannot take me, instead of him, please allow him some peace!_

"Just when I think I couldn't possibly love you any more," Jim said, "you say something like that to me and prove me wrong. It would be _my_ honor to have you hold me while I sleep. After all these years I still don't know what I could possibly have done to deserve you."

"I believe you have it backward, my friend. I do not know what I did to deserve you."

To Spock's amazement, Jim laughed. "Welcome to the Kirk and Spock mutual admiration society."

"We will have a soul mate date. We will eat a meal together, engage in some sort of recreational activity. We have already merged. We will sleep together. I will spoon you. Surely that will make going back at least somewhat easier to face."

"It will. It gives me something to look forward to. OK. Let's go back."

Spock took them through the transition. They opened their eyes to find themselves back on the bed in their room. Spock felt Jim take a breath, as deep a breath as he could with his damaged lungs. There were times when it made Spock feel short of breath just to listen to Jim's labored breathing. His hand was still on Jim's face and he heard the thought he'd heard many times before... _what I wouldn't give to be able to take a full breath..._ he shifted on the bed so that he was face-to-face with Jim.

"If I could breathe for you, I would."

Jim reached up and pulled him into a hug. "Dammit, Spock, don't say things like that. You always make me cry." The words might have sounded harsh had they not been followed by Jim kissing Spock on the tip of his ear. It was a gesture of affection, as when he kissed Jim on the neck. Spock pulled back to look at Jim. There were tears in his eyes, but he was smiling.

"I still can't figure out what I did to deserve you," he said.

"I do not know, but I thank whatever deity gifted me with you."

"I love you, Spock."

"I love you, Jim."


	2. Chapter 2

Spock and Nyota snuggled together in the bed they shared. To Spock, the room seemed too quiet. He was missing the sound of Jim's oxygen concentrator. It would be Ree hearing the hum of the machine tonight. The soul mates were spending the night with their wives. Spock couldn't help missing Jim, but he was happy to be with Nyota. The soul mate date last night had been unscheduled, but the wives were used to this. It was a testament to the commitment the two women had made to their husbands, to allow the soul mates to be together when they needed to.

"Kianda told me Jim's episode yesterday was a bad one," Nyota said.

"It was. I apologize for changing the schedule on such short notice."

"Don't apologize. You needed each other."

"I am concerned about Jim. He is declining rapidly. I fear that he has little time left."

Spock felt Nyota's embrace tighten. He could feel her distress. She was laying in the crook of his arm, with her hand on his chest. He took it in his and squeezed it gently.

"Doctor McCoy is coming tomorrow to give him a check up. He will assess his condition."

"Were you able to reach T' Pela?"

"Yes. She gave us some information which has eased our minds at least a little."

"What did she say?"

"Jim and I will be able to connect on the ethereal plane, but only once every six months, and we will have a limited amount of time each visit. But we will be able to be together."

"That's good. Better than nothing. I know it won't be enough, as close as you two have been."

"It will not be enough, but most of us do not have even that."

"Most people are not soul mates."

"This is true. I am grateful for what we have been given."

_xxxxx_

Jim was laying on his side facing Ree. They were kissing. Making out, actually. After all the years they'd been together, she still made his pulse race. She'd only become more beautiful as the years went by. She had a bit of gray in her auburn hair, and laugh lines around her sea-green eyes.

"Whoa, slow down there, horndog. You can't start breathing heavy."

"I'm OK, honest. I'm in the mood to play."

"Jim..."

"Oh, come on, Ree. What's the worst that can happen?"

"Jim, that's not funny."

"I know. I'm sorry. Baby, we can do it. We've done it before, and I haven't died yet."

"Oh, for God's sake..."

"Come on. You know you want me."

Ree sighed. "You know I can't say no to you. And yes, I want you. But I don't want to be the cause of your death."

"You won't be. I promise."

"You can't make a promise like that."

Jim rolled onto his back. "I promise I'll be good. No getting too excited." He knew she couldn't refuse him.

She straddled him. They kissed some more. He wanted her, wanted to be inside her. She always teased him before she finally let him in. He loved it.

"Ree, what are you waiting for?"

"Are you ready?"

"I've been ready. Please. I want you."

She smiled and kissed him. In the midst of the kiss he felt her hand on him as she guided him into her. He knew he had to lay flat on his back and let her do all the work. If he tried to get involved, she'd stop, and he knew she was serious.

He felt the warmth of her all around him. It was delicious. She began to move against him, pushing him up into her and then slowly pulling back. He felt his heart beat faster, but he managed to keep his breathing even.

She quickened the pace. He was hoping he wouldn't come before she did, when he felt her tense and make a funny noise in her throat.

"Oh God, Jim!" She pushed hard against him. He almost lost it then, but managed to hold back. She stopped for a moment, and then settled into a rhythm that, of course, was perfect. He felt the touch of her mind. It was like a butterfly flitting from bush to flower to tree. She was there to gauge his level of arousal. She wanted to catch him at the perfect time. She leaned down over him till they were looking each other in the eyes.

"I love you, Jim," she whispered, and quickened her pace. Jim fought to keep his breathing steady. He was wearing his delivery tube, which was mandatory if he wanted to make love to his wife. She wouldn't touch him unless he was wearing it. If he did become short of breath, it would help.

"Say it again."

"I love you, Jim." That did it. Pushed him right over the edge, into a spectacular orgasm. His heart was pounding and his breathing quickened but not enough to be a problem. He let out a soft moan. It felt _so_ good. When it finally subsided and he was able to speak, he answered her.

"I love you, Rhiannon."

"Are you OK?"

"I'm better than OK. That was fucking awesome."

"Fucking awesome? Or awesome fucking?"

"Both."

"No trouble breathing?"

"Ree, I'm fine. Don't spoil the moment." He felt himself slip out of her. She moved so she was lying beside him, her head on his shoulder, her leg across his. He told her he was fine, and he was, but he was secretly relieved that he'd made it through their lovemaking with no problem. They didn't do it often and they weren't supposed to do it at all. Jim had been deemed not healthy enough for sexual activity. But, being James T. Kirk, he didn't always listen to authority. _Better to die happy than sexually frustrated. _Bones knew he wasn't following the doctor's orders and he didn't like it, but he knew his friend. They took as many precautions as they could; he wore his oxygen tube, they had a hypospray on the night stand if he needed it. They'd never had a problem.

_xxxxx_

Bones felt a stab of fear. Jim's condition was worsening quickly. He was hit with the cold realization that he would soon lose one of his oldest and dearest friends. He found it difficult to maintain his objectivity. He wanted to cry. He took a deep breath and fought to get his emotions under control.

Jim sat in the recliner, watching the look on his friend's face. "It's not good, is it?" he asked.

"No, it's not. I'm sorry Jim. I wish I had better news. Your lungs are shutting down. If it weren't for the hyposprays I don't think you'd have made it this long."

Jim and Spock looked at each other and then back at McCoy. Bones took another breath. What he was about to say was something that none of them wanted to hear.

"You need to get ahold of George, and gather your family and friends. You gotta say your goodbyes before it's too late."

"Jesus, Bones. How long do I have?" The doctor hesitated. "Just give it to me straight."

"A week, maybe two." Bones started to tear up. Jim looked stricken.

"You said to give it to you straight."

"Yeah, I did." At that moment, Spock got up and left the room. The other men watched him walk out.

"I can't say I blame him," McCoy said. "I'm having a real hard time keeping my professional objectivity. It's not every day you have to tell your best friend that he only has a week or two left to live."

"I'm telling you, Bones, that is the worst part of all of this. I can't help being sick, but I feel like I'm abandoning people who need me."

"People who love you, Jim. And there are a lot of them. _People who can't begin to imagine life without you in it. _You're not abandoning us. You're bein' taken from us. You wouldn't be leavin' if you had a choice. Please don't guilt trip yourself. You have to try to enjoy the time you have left. Sulu and Chekov are off planet, but Scotty is here. Call him. Have a party with family and whatever friends can make it. Help them celebrate your life. Help 'em to let you go with good memories. Surround yourself with the people who love you. You know I'll be here."

Bones looked up and saw Spock standing in the doorway. "Come on in, Spock. Don't leave your soul mate sittin' here without you." He could tell that the Vulcan had been crying, or at least trying hard not to. Because Spock was half Vulcan, he didn't age as quickly as his human friends. There was only a slight touch of gray in his hair and just some tiny lines around his eyes. But Bones could see the pain in those eyes. Over the years he'd come to know Spock, to understand him. Yeah, he even loved him.

"I'm gonna pack up and get outta here. Keep me posted." He bent and gave Jim a hug, gathered up his equipment and left the room.

_xxxxx_

"Spock, I need you. Help me get to the bedroom."

Spock disconnected Jim's breathing tube and turned off the machine. He handed the tube to Jim, helped him to stand, then picked him up in his arms and carried him to the bedroom. He'd carried Jim before, but now he noticed, with a sinking feeling, how frail his soul mate had become. Carrying him almost felt like carrying a child. He lay him gently on the bed, took the tube and connected it to the oxycon in their room. He turned the machine on and checked the regulator. He took his shoes off and lay down next to Jim, pulling him into his arms. Jim was crying. Spock wished he knew what to do to make him feel better. Other than holding him and comforting him, he was at a loss.

"I'm so sorry, Spock."

Spock pulled back so that he could look into Jim's eyes. "Why are you sorry?"

"Because I have to leave you here alone. I wanna stay so badly, but I can't. I'm too weak to fight anymore."

Spock struggled not to break down crying himself. Gently, he wiped the tears from Jim's face. His soul mate was worn out, pale, thin. His hair was mostly white. There were too many lines around his eyes and mouth. Too much suffering had put them there. But Jim's eyes were just as brilliantly blue as they had always been. Time and illness had not dimmed their light. When Spock's grief threatened to overwhelm him, he'd stare into those impossibly blue eyes and try to remember that although Jim would be leaving the physical world, he would live on in spirit, and that they would see each other again. Not nearly as much as Spock would like, but better than nothing.

"It is time to stop fighting, soul mate. It is time to let go. We will do as Bones suggested. Get everyone together, have a party, celebrate your life. You must contact George right away. And Sulu and Chekov. Do not go without saying goodbye."

"It probably sounds silly, but I feel like if I do that, take that step, it's like I've given up. I don't want to give up. But I just can't fight anymore. Dammit. You know, I was gonna try to outlive you, or at least have us die at about the same time. This is just way too soon."

"We have had 36 more years than we would have had, had it not been for Khan. Strange to think that someone so bent on revenge and destruction would be the one to extend your life."

"No kidding. But we have Bones to thank for that too. He developed the serum."

"Indeed." Spock caught a thought in Jim's mind. "Do not worry, Jim. I will take care of him for you. I will do whatever I can to help him through his grief. He and I share something in common. We both love you with our whole hearts."

"I know T' Pela told you that we'd be able to see each other on the ethereal. But did you ask her what's going to happen when I... die?"

Spock took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. This was going to be difficult. "Once you have left your physical body permanently, we will be separated for a time."

"How long a time?"

"It is hard to gauge it in linear terms, but it will be roughly the equivalent of a Terran month."

"And then after that, only once every six months? That's too long. Too long for us to be apart."

"It will pass more quickly for you. You will be going through an orientation of sorts. Making the transition from the physical to the spiritual. You will have work to do there, as you have here, though I know nothing of what that work will be. And you will be reunited with people you have not seen in a long time. Admiral Pike, for example. Perhaps even your father."

"Well that's something to look forward to. But what about you? You'll be left here without me."

"I must admit that the thought of being separated from you, especially for that long, is terrifying for me. But I will have our families, and Bones, for support. I will be alright. You must not worry about me."

"I can't help but worry, Spock. You're my soul mate. I can't stand the thought of you suffering. I mean, you've been suffering since I got sick, but this is different."

"I will adjust. There was a time when I considered committing suicide so that I could join you."

"Oh, no! You can't do that! Spock..."

"I said I considered it. I came to the realization that I could not be that selfish. There are too many people here who need me. No matter how much I love you, no matter how badly I will miss you, I cannot abandon my families and friends."

"I understand, really. If our positions were reversed, I'd probably consider it too. But I know I'd come to the same conclusion you have."

Spock felt Jim take, what for him, was a deep breath. It wasn't even half a breath, but it was all he could manage. Soon his beloved soul mate would be unfettered by his sick, failing body. In his times of overwhelming grief, Spock took comfort in the knowledge that Jim would be free.


	3. Chapter 3

The party was an event to remember. Bones said they needed to celebrate Jim's life, and celebrate they did. They managed to get Sulu and Chekov back to Earth. Spock's younger daughter Yemaya was also able to come home. Only George was unable to attend, but they hooked up a live feed for much of the shindig so that he and his family could join in the celebration.

Bones put himself in charge of the grilling, Scotty played bartender and the wives and daughters did the cooking and serving. It was a perfect early summer day. The sun was bright overhead but not too warm. A light breeze blew. The kids spent most of the day in the swimming pool. Jim sat on the patio in the sun and watched them. Spock was his constant companion, making sure he had whatever he needed. He'd settled his soul mate on a padded chaise lounge in an attempt to make him as comfortable as possible. A portable oxygen tank stood beside his chair. Spock sat beside him, watching his grand children splash in the pool. Jim had spoken to George, his daughter-in-law and all three of his grand children. His son had wept, apologizing for not being able to get home. The Enterprise was halfway across the galaxy, and no amount of warp speed could get them back in time.

"I know you'd be here if you could," Jim had said. "I thought I had a little more time, but it's finally caught up with me."

"Dammit, Dad, it kills me to not be able to be there. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. You're doing what I'd be out there doing if I wasn't sick. I would have liked to have you here, but I got to talk to all of you. Stay out there and discover the galaxy, son. Don't burden yourself with guilt or regrets." They talked about the part of the galaxy the Enterprise and her crew were exploring, how the ship was running, what sort of intelligent life they'd encountered. Shop talk, and Jim reveled in it, remembering the places he'd gone, the things he'd seen. The part he and his crew had played in mapping and charting the Milky Way.

Everyone spent time with him, talking, reminiscing, and laughing. They shared stories of missions past, the trouble they'd gotten into on occasion, the things they'd seen, and the places they'd discovered. The children knew their grand-uncle was sick but they were too young to really understand what that meant. The same went for Jim's grand kids. They talked to him about their studies, their friends, their life onboard the ship, and that was enough for him. He didn't want them to know he was going to die soon. They didn't need to be burdened with that at such a tender age. There was really no talk of dying at any time during the party. The whole point of the get together was to celebrate Jim's life, not get an early start on mourning his death.

Jim held up well during the festivities, managed to eat a decent meal, and even drank a beer. But as the sun began to descend into the West, Spock noticed that his soul mate was getting tired, his energy waning. He spoke to the wives and they began to wrap up the party. Everyone said goodbye to their friend, their captain, their hero, and made their way home, each to let go and grieve in his or her own way. Most of them would not see him again. Sulu, Chekov and Yemaya returned to their ships. Scotty, who was also retired, but teaching engineering at the academy, gave Jim a tight hug and held back tears before leaving to head home with his wife. Finally it was only the family left. The family included Bones and his wife, of course. Everyone kissed Jim goodnight and then Spock took him to bed.

_xxxxx_

_Four days later..._

Jim was leaving him today. Spock found no logical reason why he should be so sure of this, but then, logic didn't work well in affairs of the heart. Jim and Spock were soul mates. Bonded together for life and beyond. Spock just knew. _Today is the day he will leave me, leave us. _

Jim had become progressively weaker after the party, his lung function getting worse. Soon they would stop working. Jim could barely take a breath, and those breaths would no longer go into his bloodstream. His lungs would stop absorbing the oxygen. He would suffocate. Spock prepared to settle in with him and be as close to him as possible. He informed the families of his premonition, and arranged for everyone to come and spend time with him. Spock didn't tell Jim of his vision, but Jim picked it up from Spock's mind.

"Today? Are you sure?"

"I am sure. I do not know exactly what time, but you will leave us today."

"You gotta get the family in here, right away."

"I have already spoken to our wives. You will be receiving the family shortly."

Once the family had all come in to say their goodbyes to Jim, Kianda's husband took their kids out of the house. They didn't want the children to experience their parent's and grandparent's reaction to Jim's passing. Bones arrived as they were leaving. His wife was not with him; she had an emergency procedure to attend to and had to leave.

Nyota, Ree, Kianda, Bones and Spock all sat on or beside the bed with Jim. At the moment Ree was lying beside him, talking to him softly. The others moved away from the bed to give the couple some privacy. Spock stood to the back of the room. He would let each of them say their goodbyes to Jim, and then it would be just the soul mates together until Jim passed. Everyone had agreed this was how it should be.

The room was quiet except for the ever-present hum of the oxycon and the sound of Jim's labored breathing. The soul mates were alone now, Spock holding Jim in his arms as they lay on the bed together. Spock had raised the bed so they were half-sitting. It made it easier for Jim to breathe, and easier for Spock to hold him. Jim's head rested on his shoulder. The Vulcan kissed his forehead gently. Jim looked up at him. He smiled weakly. Spock smiled back. Jim's blue eyes began to sparkle with tears.

"I love you so much," he said.

"I love you just as much," Spock answered.

"I don't wanna leave. I'm scared."

"I know. So am I. But you do not need to be scared. Soon you will no longer be sick. There will be no more suffering. You will be free."

"But I won't be with you. I'm gonna miss you so much."

"I will miss you as well, my soul mate. I find it difficult to imagine my life without you in it."

"But we will see each other again. They promised us that, didn't they?"

"They did, and we will. But until we do, I will wait for you, and I will grieve."

"Don't grieve too much. I don't want you to. I want you... to get on with your life. And don't tell me... that you have no life without me, because you do." Jim was starting to have trouble speaking. His breathing became shallow. Spock felt a wave of panic hit him. The emotions that stumbled over each other inside him were varied and conflicting. He felt angry, helpless, defenseless against despair that threatened to overwhelm him. He felt a deep sorrow, but at the same time he was happy that finally, Jim would no longer suffer. He wanted to hold onto his soul mate and refuse to let him go, knowing, of course, how illogical it was, but not caring about logic in the face of losing the one person who was the other half of himself.

Jim was still looking up at him. And then he looked past him, at something only he could see.

"What do you see?" Spock asked.

"I see a light. A bright, beautiful light." Jim continued to look, and then his expression became one of surprise.

"Jim, what do you see?"

"Not what. Who. I see Admiral Pike."

"He has come to help you cross over. Go with him."

"Spock..."

"It is all right, Jim. Go with him. I will wait for you."

"I have to go with him. It's time. I love you, Spock. Now and always. You are my heart."

"You are my heart, Jim Kirk. Say good bye now, and go. I love you now and always."

Spock had a viselike grip on his emotions. He didn't want to break down until after Jim had passed. He kept watching his soul mate's face. He watched the life force ebb out of his sick, ruined body. The light went out in Jim's eyes. He was gone.

_xxxxx_

Nyota and Ree heard a strange, wailing scream come from the bedroom. They looked at each other.

"Oh my God, he's gone," Ree said, and broke down in tears. Nyota held her, supported her. Kianda came into the room with Bones. The wives jumped up and everyone went to the bedroom. Nyota opened the door and found her husband sobbing uncontrollably, Jim in his arms. Spock had closed Jim's eyes, and he looked like he was asleep, but everyone knew that he had passed. They gathered around the soul mates, trying to lend Spock their support, their love. At this point he was inconsolable, but they had known he would be. They stayed together until someone arrived to take Jim's body away. At first Spock didn't want to let him go, but finally he did.

The house was too quiet. The oxycons were all turned off. There was no sound of Jim's raspy, uneven breathing. No voices. No one had the heart to speak. In three days Jim would be buried with full Starfleet honors. For now, there was nothing to do but mourn the loss of a man who was husband, father, grandfather, uncle, best friend... soul mate. A starship captain, an explorer, a rebel, an innovator and a risk taker. James T. Kirk, a true living legend, was gone.


End file.
